


Just a Sniffle

by almaasi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Affectionate Dean Winchester, Canon Universe, Caring Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Watch Television, Dean Winchester Watches Castiel Sleep, Fallen Castiel, Ficlet, Fluff, Foot Massage, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Light Petting, M/M, One Shot, Romance, Sam Knows, Schmoop, Sharing a Bed, Sick Castiel, Undressing, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 07:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18205433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi
Summary: Cas is feeling under the weather. Dean skips a hunt to offer some gentle care – which apparently includes foot rubs.





	Just a Sniffle

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I caught a cold. And senseless floof makes me feel better. I can only assume it magically makes everyone else better too. Enjoy~!!
> 
> Beta'd by [Katie](http://crab-full-of-rocks.tumblr.com/) and [Joanjun](https://roisu10.tumblr.com/).

For someone with such a deep, commanding voice, Cas was very good at _whining_.

“I’m not _supposed_ to get sick,” he said, all nasal because of his stuffy nose. He sniffed, which made no difference, before he added, “If I still had my power this never would’ve happened.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have your power, and you _are_ sick,” Dean said, taking Castiel by the shoulders and rotating him, pushing him towards the motel bed. “And as much as I wanna tell you it’s ‘just a sniffle’, Cas, you are one ill-timed sneeze away from stabbing the wrong guy. So—” He pushed Castiel nearer the bed, but Cas went down face-first, thumping the mattress like a six-foot pancake in a six-foot pan. “ _So_ ,” Dean said again, surprised it was that easy, “you’re gonna rest. And do nothing else until you’re better.”

“We didnh finish the case,” Castiel said into the blanket, as Dean bent to pull off his shoes.

“Sam’ll take care of it.”

Castiel sniffed, rolling over, limply allowing Dean to take off his coat. “Why are you denuding me?”

“De _nuding_ — Dude, if you’re gonna lie down you’re gonna feel lumps everywhere. Undo your belt, empty your pockets. C’mon.” He beckoned, and Cas begrudgingly sat upright. “And undo your tie.”

“You undo it,” Castiel said testily, eyes closed as he swayed, breathing out through his mouth. He fumbled in his pockets, but collapsed back on the bed before he could get anything out. His hands went limp.

Dean rolled his eyes. “God. Okay. I’m coming in, Cas, don’t freak out.”

Dean bit his lip as he fished around in Castiel’s front pockets, expecting to find an FBI badge or car keys – if Cas even put them in there to begin with – but only found wads and wads of wet tissue.

“Okay, Cas?” Dean tossed everything in the trash. “That’s disgusting.”

“I didn’t want to litter.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Dean went to wash his hands, then came back, still muttering in disgust.

He bowed over his friend and loosened his tie for him. He took it off completely, then moved down to unbuckle his belt. Cas opened his puffy eyes to gaze at Dean as he did so, and Dean tried not to blush. “Bet this ain’t how you thought this was gonna happen the first time, huh.”

“What?”

Dean’s ears burned. “Nothin’.” He tossed the belt and tie aside, then took Castiel’s feet with both hands and rotated his entire body to lay length-wise on the motel bed. Castiel grunted as Dean let him go. Dean got closer to the headboard, propping up a couple of pillows, then helping Cas to prop himself up, pulling him from under his arms like an overlarge baby.

“Alright.” Dean sat at the edge of the bed and touched Castiel’s forehead with the back of his hand. “Yeah, temperature’s way high. Are you feelin’ too hot, do I gotta take your shirt off too?”

“Cold,” Castiel sighed.

“Really?” Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “You feel like you’ve been lying on a hotplate.”

“No, your hand,” Castiel mumbled. “Is cold.”

“Well, sorry, buddy, I ain’t got my single-use hand warmer packet on me right this second,” Dean snarked. He lifted his hand off. “You just rest and I’ll go buy you some food.”

“No... no, come back,” Castiel begged. “Hand.”

Dean slowly sat back down beside Cas. “Cas, I gotta get you some edibles. Fresh fruit, ginger, healthy shit like that. There’s a mall a couple blocks over, maybe they have a smoothie place.”

“Hmmm.” Castiel patted blindly for Dean, found his hand, and snatched it to his forehead. “Cold.”

Dean grinned. “That helps?”

Castiel bobbed his head, then stopped moving, frowning. “I have a headache.”

Dean flipped his hand and let Cas have the cold side again.

“I don’t like this headache,” Castiel said.

“I’d be worried for you if you did,” Dean uttered, sitting a bit closer, bouncing himself comfortable. He slid the back of his other hand to Castiel’s burning cheek, and smiled, because Castiel whimpered in relief. “That good, huh?”

“Mm.” Castiel turned his head, wanting Dean’s hand on the other side too.

Dean cupped his face with both hands, since it seemed practical, but then he realised he was just cradling his friend like he was about to kiss him. Cas had his eyes closed, Dean was a mere eight inches away. And Cas let out a comforted moan, which was so freaking adorable that Dean broke out his wobbliest, most sentimental smile, the kind he reserved for mewling kittens and the most heartwarming scenes of _Dr. Sexy_.

Cas looked exhausted, and annoyed, but after a minute of Dean holding him, they both felt a bit more relaxed. Cas definitely looked it.

Dean’s hands were warm now, so he gradually let Cas go, letting him take the weight of his own head. Castiel complained in a garbled utterance, but soon lay his head back on the wall, chin tipped up.

“I’ll be twenty minutes, a’right? Hang in there.”

“My feet hurt,” Castiel complained.

“Well you’re not using them any more, so— Aw, Caaas. Stop lookin’ at me like that, I gotta go _out_.” Dean huffed in exasperation, unable to handle the puppy eyes. “Okay fine! Fine, asshat, budge up.”

Dean kicked off his shoes then sat himself at Castiel’s feet, while Castiel sat up, apparently unsure what Dean was about to do. Dean arranged himself cross-legged with Castiel’s socked feet in the bowl of his bowlegs, their ankles touching each other. Dean gripped Castiel’s feet firmly with both hands, and Castiel _yelped_ , spasming. Dean pretended to frown seriously while hiding an inner smile, starting to massage.

Castiel breathing turned erratic; he whimpered, writhing in the bed. He slumped down the headboard, fingers clutching the pillow, legs bending – but Dean had such a strong grasp on his achey feet that Castiel only squirmed closer rather than away.

“Deeeeaaan,” Castiel moaned, throwing an arm over his head. “Ouuuuch.”

“Hey, I got you,” Dean assured him. “This’ll help, I promise.”

“I knowww,” Castiel sobbing. “It— It’s helping...” He sounded so upset. “It hurts...”

“I know,” Dean whispered, looking down at Castiel’s feet, pausing for a moment to roll his socks off. There were red marks on his ankles from the elastic. Dean tossed the socks off the bed, and rubbed firmly over the marks, then down over Castiel’s pale feet. Cas didn’t have hairy feet, but there were some dark strands here and there. Dean pinched Castiel’s toes and made him bark, then wiggled those toes and set free tiny balls of black sock cotton that had worked their way in between each toe. Castiel bore with it all, his cries becoming lesser as Dean massaged more.

Dean worked his thumbs hard into Castiel’s tough red heels, and at that, Castiel sighed, relaxing. He was now lying sprawled on the bed, over the messed-up top sheet, his legs and hips twisted to one side but his upper torso facing the ceiling.

He gave Dean a lazy stare, breathing through parted lips.

Dean smiled back, stroking part-way up Castiel’s legs. “How you feelin’ now?”

Castiel nodded. “Bit better. Thank you.”

Dean patted one foot, and got ready to get up, but Castiel caught him with a foot and pushed him back down. “More.”

Dean chuckled. “Seriously? You’re gonna boss me around with your feet now?”

Castiel just pushed a bare foot against Dean’s belly, expectant.

Dean grinned and rolled his eyes, but nodded. “Okay. Gimme a second, though.” He reached into his own jeans and pulled out his phone, dialling Sam’s number. He let it ring, giving Cas a one-handed squish as he did.

“ _Hey,_ ” Sam said.

“I need you to get groceries,” Dean said, avoiding Castiel’s eyes. “Deal with the case after. Cas is, uh— He, um. He... needs me here.”

“ _Okay?_ ” There was a smile in Sam’s voice, and Dean both hated and loved that his brother knew how much those ‘he needs me’ words really meant. “ _Fresh vegetables, fruit and stuff, right? And those lemony hot drinks. What about the rest of us?_ ”

“Hey, we can eat something green, nothing wrong with a few nutrients here and there.” Dean took the weight of Castiel’s other foot as Cas swapped them in silence. “But, uh. Maybe grab me a burger or something.”

Castiel poked Dean softly with his toes, making a wanton noise.

Dean sighed. “Cas wants a burger too. “And— Get him one of those smoothies from the mall, y’know, the gingery, citrusy kind?”

Sam chuckled. “ _You know it’s just a sniffle, right? He’ll be fine by tomorrow. He just needs some rest._ ”

Dean bristled. “Dude! Come _on_ , have a little pity. Cas used to gallop around the galaxies with a bunch of snarling animal heads a mile wide, and now he’s all small n’ sore n’ droopy. Besides, _Sam_ , don’t you wish someone would give _you_ foot rubs and make your bed comfy when you’re sick? I _know_ you do, you wanted me to do that when we were kids. Hell, you wanted me to do that last fall.”

Sam huffed in amusement. “ _Is that what you’re doing with Cas? Foot rubs?_ ”

“No,” Dean lied. “Just get the damn stuff, okay?

“ _Okay, okay,_ ” Sam laughed. “ _But you luuurve him_.”

Dean flushed hot, grateful beyond belief that Cas no longer had super angel hearing. “I didn’t— Hear that— Sam you’re— Breaking up— Tunnel—” Dean lowered the phone and ended the call.

“You’re blushing,” Castiel said. “What did Sam say?”

“Nothing,” Dean said, bowing his head and mashing his thumbs into Castiel’s soles, making him grunt. “Just boring regular Sam stuff.”

Castiel doubted, but Dean heard him smiling as he said, “I do appreciate this, Dean. Just in case you thought I was taking advantage.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Just gettin’ you back for all the times you fixed me with a finger on the forehead.”

Castiel tilted his head into the pillow. “You don’t owe me.”

“No, no,” Dean agreed. “But...” He looked up, meeting Castiel’s eyes. “I wanna. So shut up and let me, alright?”

Castiel smiled.

Soon Cas exhaled, sinking into the bed, groaning deeply. “Dean... I’m... so _tired_...”

Dean nodded, patting Castiel’s feet, finally slipping himself off the bed. “You just nap. I’mma be right here.”

“Are there cartoons?” Castiel asked, flushed face glowing against the white pillow. “I want cartoons. I find them soothing. _Scooby Doo_ especially.”

“You and me both,” Dean said, fetching the remote for the TV. “Here, have at it.”

“Hmm...” Castiel turned the TV on, but from his prostrate position, he couldn’t quite see, and Dean watched his eyes droop shut, then his hand go slack on the bed. He left the TV on a golf tournament.

“Ahhh,” Dean sighed. He sat on the bed with his back to the headboard, legs stretched out beside Castiel’s torso. He grabbed the remote and flicked through channels, stopping it when he saw _Looney Tunes_. “Hey, how’s that? Road Runner?”

Castiel made a quiet noise of assent, rolling to face Dean’s legs, one hand out to touch his knee.

Dean’s lips parted. “You not gonna watch?”

“I’m listening,” Castiel whispered. His breath was too hot through the denim, Dean felt his leg hair prickle.

Dean reached down and petted Castiel’s dark head of hair, stroking a few times, curling his fingertips behind his ear. “Still got a headache?”

“‘S helping,” Castiel breathed.

So Dean kept stroking him. He watched the TV, chuckling, looking down to describe the moment to Castiel. “Magic hole through a bridge, dusty canyon underneath? Never gets old. Bye-bye, Mr. Coyote.”

Castiel just breathed.

Dean looked down, forgetting the TV for a while, just stroking his angel’s hair. “Hey,” he said, soft as anything. “You okay?”

Castiel took a while to respond, but when he did, he murmured, faintly, “Wanna sleep.”

“Okay,” Dean whispered. “You sleep.” He kept stroking. “I’ll watch over you.”

Castiel’s eyelashes fluttered when he heard that.

He knew what it meant. Same as Dean.

Not too long later, Castiel let himself slip from consciousness, in a place of softness, safety... and unquestionable love.

**{ the end }**

**Author's Note:**

> One kudo = one gross wet tissue smote out of existence!
> 
> ♥ [reblog start of story](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/183641731915/just-a-sniffle)  
> ♥ [reblog summary](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/183641876430/just-a-sniffle-almaasi-cas-is-feeling-under-the)
> 
> [I've posted 99 other fics, and you'd probably like those too.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/works)  
> I have so many more Destiel fics to be posted, almost weekly for the next couple of months, so [subscribe on my user page](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi) if you want those!! (They're a mixture of G-rated fluff pieces, kinky X-rated smut, and longer stories with emotions and/or plot, so nobody gets left out.)  
> (And [here's how to support my writing in other ways, if you can~](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/174914543205/how-to-make-sure-elmiealmaasi-writes-forever))
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, my lovelies!! I appreciate every single one of you. I hope that if you ever catch a metaphorical cold, you can use it for inspiration to write a metaphorical fic. I mean, when life gives you lemons, et cetera...
> 
> Elmie x


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